


The Immaculate Conception of Madness

by Maesonry



Series: Work and Days [4]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Bastardization of Greek Myth, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, It’s Greek Myth babey, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, They Aren’t Related But...., immaculate conception, its a circle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maesonry/pseuds/Maesonry
Summary: “A baby?” Ares reiterates, holding the child in his arms. “Are you sure? I would’ve remembered having a baby.”“It’s just like with your little sister, dearest heart,” Hera smiles. “Why, I had Hebe after eating some cabbage.”“Ababy,” Ares repeats.
Relationships: Ares/Dionysus (Hades Video Game)
Series: Work and Days [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069766
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I have used different myths here to try and make them uhm. Not quite related. Hera does have a myth where she gives birth to Ares without Zeus, which, at the very least, means that Ares and Dionysus aren’t related in this one. But this is Greek Myth; the entire thing is a wreath

High upon the dawn-soaked arches of Olympus, golden laurel leaves fall down onto the ground, stirred around by the air and the breeze. The scent of nectar and ambrosia is thick in the air, and the sound of laughter echoes past the columns, deep and full of mirth. It’s joined by giggles interspersed in between, the scene opening.

“And I said,” Dionysus inhales, cuts it off with a flushed giggle, “ _oatmeal_? Are you crazy?”

Aphrodite laughs, bright and airy, and beside her so too does Ares, rich with vibrato. Aphrodite tips her drink back, and Ares does the same, though his spills somewhat at the corners of his mouth as he laughs still into the cup. Dionysus moves a hand, the drinks refilling again, and Ares sets his down with a smile. 

“Ah, but I’m afraid I will have to be going soon. Thrace has called for my blessing, and I am remiss to ignore my homeland, even for company such as this.” Ares gives a grin Dionysus, who mirrors it with Aphrodite’s flirty edge. 

“So soon? But we’ve only just started,” Aphrodite pouts, stretching and sighing. “Must you go off and frolic with the mortals?”

“Come on, Ares,” Dionysus beckons, “Won’t you stay with us a little longer?” Dionysus opens his arms, unhooking his ankles as he tilts his head with a deviously innocent expression. Ares smiles and looks away.

“Leave my cup out for me, won’t you? Perhaps I will return soon.”

Dionysus sighs loudly, but plucks up Ares’ skyphos, pressing his lips to the rim in something like a lazy kiss before setting it away. “It’ll stay fresh over, thereish.” 

“And we’ll languish away waiting for your return, Ares dearest,” Aphrodite pointedly adds, smiling playfully. Ares laughs, turns, and leaves. 

The skyphos remains.

Hours later, Ares does return, though the small gathering place has lost Aphrodite as her flowers drift off without her presence. Dionysus, though, remains. He looks up at Ares, and his gaze is something like water reflecting moonlight, or the inside of a pearl. The skyphos is passed forward, and Ares takes it from Dionysus’ hand, fingers ghosting over each other. Ares tips the cup back, just for one sip, the blood like fire that runs from his face dripping into the wine.

“I thought it was just a blessing,” Dionysus tilts his head, staring at Ares as they remain close.

“My solution was more fulfilling,” Ares grins, showing off sharp teeth and the edges of mortal crimson. The setting sun burns him into bronze and gold. Dionysus laughs, and perhaps doesn’t pull back either, taking the skyphos out of Ares’ hand.

“War and madness rarely mix.”

“So they seem to say,” Ares looks at Dionysus, “but they said they same about love, too.”

Dionysus’ smile has too many teeth, and it is wide.

“Maybe.”

Dionysus sets the skyphos down, and he laughs as he departs, leaving Ares behind. Ares, who watches his surrogate sibling go, before leaving as well. And the skyphos- the wine with immortal blood- remains, gathering the rays of the setting sun, glowing gold. Sealed with a kiss on the rim as it was. 

And in the middle of the dawn upon the next day, with her rosy fingers-

A baby’s voice from the skyphos cries.


	2. Chapter 2

They call her baby Ephe. Some of the gods say she was born of Nyx, of Night itself, brought from a starry womb into Olympus. But it is Ares who finds her first, and finds her nestled in the skyphos that once held the blood and the wine; and it is in this that Ares knows that this is not some child of Nyx. That, as he bundles the babe up in his arms and runs to his mother, this child has only one origin from which she could have come.

Still. Still, Ares must ask.

“Mother,” Ares bursts into the central chamber, for once uncaring for decorum. Mother Hera sits upon her throne, the one of Lord Father Zeus empty beside her, and she looks to Ares as he rushes into the room, setting down some parchments she was reviewing. 

“Hello, dearest heart. And what ever is the matter that you would run with such a hurry?” Hera smiles indulgently, beckoning him closer. “Is it your sister Hebe again? I hope she hasn’t gotten into any more trouble since I’ve gotten back, but... well, she and Zagreus do seem to attract trouble.”

“I, no, mother,” and Ares mumbles awkwardly, glancing down at the baby in his arms. Unsure of where to begin. The babe yawns and nestles into the folds of the blanket, delicate curls peaking over the edges, and Ares finds words sticking to his throat. “We... well, I. Last night, Dionysus and I were drinking, and...” 

“And?” Hera tilts her head. “What’s wrong, Ares? And what is that in your arms?” 

But her face has the particular set a parent gets, when they are starting to conceive of what the answer is but not quite certain yet. Especially as the baby squirms and lets out a coo that mixes with a murmur, bright eyes opening to look around the room and settle on mother Hera.

“This morning, I found a baby where we left our drink,” Ares confesses. Tilts the bundle towards his mother so that she can see the tiny thing, and certainly now that Ares isn’t panicking he can see that the resemblance is striking. That the child has skin like the earth, blinking eyes that are magenta like twilight and curly hair that is damp upon their cheeks. They have white markings upon their face, splotches like a tiny doe, and Ares finds himself breathless at the idea that he could have made this. That someone as violent and savage as he could create life such as this. Hera lets out an excited, delighted gasp, looking down to the baby.

“A baby! Bring it here, dearest heart, let me see them,” Hera extends her arms, and Ares gives ~~his~~ the child to her, watching his mother’s face alight with joy. “It’s been an eternity since there was a baby on Olympus, since little Hebe, I imagine. Why... Oh, Ares... she looks just like you and Dionysus. What a little darling she is.”

“But mother,” Ares protests, “I- I do not recall having a child. How can she be mine? Surely there must be some mistake.”

“There is no such thing as a mistake,” Hera shakes her head with an indulgent smile, tucking the blankets back in close to the baby. “Especially not with children.”

Hera extends her arms, setting the baby back into Ares’ tender hold. 

“Do you know how I gave birth to you, little one?” Hera asks, as a trio of peacocks chirps past. Ares gives her a look of confusion, and she smiles, clicking her tongue. “Tsk. I knew I forgot something. Well, when it came time to have children, I was so upset at Zeus for his...” Hera’s eyes darken. “Indiscretions, that I had you alone without his aid.” Hera reaches down and scoops up a peacock, smiling. “And your sister Hebe, too, though she was more of a surprise- as I gave birth to her after eating a cabbage.”

Ares looks down at the baby in his arms. His voice sounds somewhat weak and uncertain as he responds.

“I do not recall eating any magical cabbage last night.”

“The point is,” Hera raises an eyebrow, “That children can come from a variety of ways when you are a god, my dearest heart. And this child is... well, she is undoubtably yours. And I am so, so happy for you,” Hera smiles deeply. “This is a cause for celebration. All of Olympus deserves to know of this great news!”

“But...” and Ares doesn’t know why he suddenly feels uncertain, as uncharacteristic as it is. “What if Dionysus does not feel the same?”

The idea that this child would... be rejected. It makes Ares curl his hands closer around his daughter, as if to protect her from that. “What if he dismisses her?” Ares looks up, brow set heavy. Knows of how Dionysus abandoned his once love, Ariadne, to Hades, once she died a tragic death. How flighty the affection and attention of those well-loved upon Olympus can be. Where Ares is scorned by his family, will they scorn this child the same? Those who should love her? “How do I raise a child when I do not even know what she is the god of? What if I lead her astray?” The fears burn over, like a fire taking apart battlements at night, and Ares feels terror cinch him as he holds his child. Terror that should be unknown to him. What was just joy is now only anxiety, and he worries a hole in his blood as he clutches the baby close and stares.

Hera steps down from her throne, kneeling in front of Ares. Her eyes are soft and understanding, and her hand is soft upon his face, raising it up to look to her. “Darling child, everything will be well. Your little Ephe will grow strong and sure, and she will be a shining light for you to be proud of. You must not worry about such things. This child is a gift, Ares. Much like how you were, or your sister Hebe. Any gift to the gods cannot bring sorrow, but only joy.”

Hera hugs him then, careful not to harm the baby. And the little one- Ephe, mother called her. Ephemeral. A goddess of change. Ares holds the little one close, and wonders, though with trepidation, what she will become.

And, more specifically, how exactly to break the news of the sudden child to Dionysus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tfw u eat a cabbage so good you give birth to Youth


	3. Chapter 3

Ares finds Dionysus at his grove. The air carries the intoxicating smell of grapes and wine, lifting lazily on the breeze the Winds provide. It carries a ring of nostalgia too, of peace, and for a moment Ares can close his eyes an exhale. It is not his domain, yes, but it is adjacent; feasts after battles won are not uncommon, and wine is always present then, as it is now.

Ephe makes a bubbling noise in his arms, and Ares’ eyes open, looking down to her as she makes a spit bubble and gums at her fingers. When their eyes meet, she giggles, reaching out one tiny hand to his face. A hand that Ares gently takes in his own.

“Hush now, my daughter. All will be well soon.” 

She blubbers something or another again, and Ares tilts his head indulgently, smiling at her as if he still can’t believe his eyes. And truly, how could he? “Yes, yes. I see. Here, my little kin,” and Ares plucks a few grapes from a nearby vine, hands them to her. “Do not choke,” he warns as he taps her nose. 

The grove expands. Laughter fills the air again, rich and warm, and Ares can pick out the sound of Dionysus anywhere, true as always. The vines, lush with grapes, part to reveal the god in question, lounging and looking into a cup of wine. His cheeks and blushed with it, and yet his eyes are still clear, as he turns to Ares and waves lazily.

“Hey there, man. Back so soon?” Dionysus’ smile turns a little lopsided, a little secret, maybe. “Though, I guess we are alone. Want to join me?”

Ephe sneezes. Dionysus blinks. Ares does not move.

“Uh. Hey, Ares man, that was a... cute sneeze?” Dionysus hedges. Ephe gurgles. Dionysus stares at the bundle. “Huh.”

Ares has never been one for full fledged plans, and so he clears his throat and walks forward, until he is right at Dionysus. Tilts the baby so she faces him, curls and all.

“This,” Ares begins, “is Ephe. Our daughter.”

Dionysus does not move. 

“Our. Daughter?”

“Yes.”

“As in, our daughter. A kid we made. Together.”

“Precisely.”

Dionysus lets out a nervous laughter. “I, uh, don’t think we, well, _you know_ , did anything to make one, did we? Can’t be ours. I mean, unless, uh-“

“Mother Hera has identified her as ours,” Ares gestures to a skyphos, “and, she came from our shared drink.”

Ephe sticks her tongue out at Dionysus and babbles, gumming at a grape. 

“Uh,” he says.

Ares raises an eyebrow. “Do you find issue with her?” His voice is a threat. He imagines every terrible scenario, and works to squash each one. “Speak now, before I decide to deal with it myself.”

“I- woah there, deal with it?” And Dionysus quickly grabs the baby, much to Ares’ surprise. “If you’re going to harm her or something, or hurt her, Ares, I’ll-“

Now it’s Ares’ turn to look surprised. “Ah. That was not my intent. I meant to imply that I would deal with you, should you reject her.” Then, Ares tilts his head. “Support her head. You’re holding her wrong.”

“A baby,” Dionysus repeats. “We have- we have a baby?”

Ephe, upon finding Dionysus’ loose curls, starts gnawing at them. 

“Indeed.”

Dionysus stares at her. “I... well, I don’t really know, man, I- with Ariadne, she always was the one to take care of the kids, really...” Dionysus shifts his gaze around, “I never really uh, helped much, aside from visiting her and well, by then the kids would be gone or something had happened to one or the other, you know.”

Ares’ face is frigid. “You will not abandon this child.” Now this threat is much more clear. Ares has never been a father before, yes, but if Dionysus is to scorn their daughter, Ares will make him regret such a choice.

Still, Dionysus shrinks somewhat. “But, a baby? I’ve never really raised one. She- I could really mess her up, and what then? I can’t deal with that, man. Here, take her back.”

“No,” Ares tilts his head. “You are afraid of failure. That is why you ran before. But this time,” and Ares gently pushing the baby back to Dionysus, “You will not fail. We will both raise her together. Us, and Olympus too.”

There is silence. 

“What if I really mess her up?” Dionysus whispers, uncharacteristically uncertain. “What if she hates me?”

“I do not think anyone could truly hate you,” Ares’ voice is soft. “Though I have tried.”

Dionysus laughs then, startling Ephe, who lets out a noise of upset, and Dionysus quickly moves to comfort her. “Hey, hey now, easy, it’s okay.” He looks to Ares. “Ephe, you said? Strange. I always thought she looked like a Lyssa.”

Ares leans in and helps soothe Ephe. “Hm. Lyssa, you say? Perhaps. But Ephe works too, does it not? For a goddess of change. Perhaps,” and Ares smiles a little secret, “a goddess of madness too.”

For they did say that War and Ecstasy never would mix. That it was madness.

Well. Perhaps madness was the result indeed. And, as Ares and Dionysus hold the child, what a wonderful result she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deadbeat dad Dionysus
> 
> Anyway. So yes this is based on the Goddess Lyssa, who has very little about her but so much to work with. I figured. With Ares having children that are fear, having a child of madness is also quite fun and works. Worked in how she is ‘born of Nyx’ too, etc. very very fun working with existing myth to create a new one
> 
> And Ephe is in quite a few myths too. So expect her to cause problems for everyone


End file.
